Burning memories
by LoveroftheKiller
Summary: Souls are a controversial topic. They either exist or they don't, but the implications of either option being true could burn the world as we know it. This just happened to be a bit more literal for me. The name's Arsenio Kazue, and I was born in a screaming, fiery mess. Literally. Like, "My baby is on fire! HELP ME!" were the first words I heard my mother say. -Sorta!SI -Yaoi


**OK, so this is the backstory for my SI. The first section will summarize who they were, who they became in school, and how it all happened. While the second will be their inevitable death. I don't know how often I'll come back to this as I have a hard time focusing on one idea for extended periods of time. It's part of the reason why I'm in the middle of 8 animes. 2 tv series, 5 books, and some 5 or so stories. I have issues.  
**

 **I would greatly appreciate any and all comments you have. I'm still entirely new and don't have a Beta or anybody to discuss this stuff with. so mainly, I'm just trying to get this out there and see where it goes. A way to motivate myself I guess. Like I said, _issues_.  
**

 **I'm making this an A/N because the first bit is probably going to be going to be boring if you want to skip it. It mostly just a journal entry for the character as a way for me to try out different writing styles. Now, without further ado, Let the story continue!**

* * *

For as long as I can remember, I have been unmotivated. I had the talent, skill, and brains that others envied... and I hated it. Oh, not wholeheartedly, but just a calm lake of resentment. Because _"With great power, comes great responsibility."_ Yea, that cliche movie stuff _actually_ means something in real-life. Even though people mock others who use logic like that for being 'unrealistic', the shit's actually true.

Take for example me. It may not have been obvious at first, but around the end of my American Elementary school, many people called me 'smart'. With the new title of 'smart', came unspoken expectations.

"Wait, _you_ don't get this?! But you're so _smart_ \- if _you_ don't get it, then there's no way _I'll_ get it!", "Hey, can you help me with this? I don't get how you got from point A to point x. I'm just not as smart as you.", "Well, _obviously_ he got an A. The guy's so smart, it's stupid.", and my absolute favorite, "There's no way he could fail. The guys a genius!".

There was always an expectation to be better, to be the best, that when I couldn't be... it was crushing. The thinly, if at all veiled disappointment and disbelief _hurt._ The higher someone puts you on a pedestal , the more it hurts those supporting you and yourself when you fall.

To give a bit more background, I came from a middle class location where I nearly always had enough. There were a few occasions where we stretched our resources through reduced portions, cold water, _less_ water, and various other means, but for the most part, I rarely went hungry. The foster parents I had weren't attentive, but there was never really any abuse. All-in-all, an average orphan in the system.

I was never the type to be drawn into believing in Santa, the Easter bunny, or anything like that though. 'Old Soul' they called me. I always saw more than I should. It's why I tried so hard to grow up as fast as possible. I hated when the adults would laugh _just so_ from me getting excited, when they'd smile _just so_ down at me when I told them some of my ideas and dreams, or sigh _just so_ at the tv shows I wanted to watch. I know now that they probably didn't mean it, but as a child I thought they were patronizing me. The embarrassment would just flood up inside me, and it'd just hurt. So, I started hiding, watching the adults, learning what they knew, reading books, focusing on school, keeping my temper, using logic to explain things, _holding back_ , and working to be an all around mature/stoic person.

It worked on the outside, but I now know that it damaged me in a way. I became less... stable I guess. Less able to take failure, to have fun, to go out, and less likely to _live._ That, I think, is the reason for everything. As much as I pretended otherwise, I was mentally delicate.

So, to continue, my Sophomore year in high school, I tried something I would forever regret. I took Honors Geometry. My 3rd day in there, I realized that I _just didn't get it_. I know what you're thinking at this point, _" man, is this guy a whiner. Complaining about being smart and then having a little trouble with one class."_ You may be right, but at the time, I couldn't think of anything else. I was distraught. The first test I took was was a 'C'. For someone who thought anything below 95 was failure, this hurt. Then we took 2 more. Both of them progressively getting worse. I tried to study, but I had projects for my other classes that took _so much time_.

I had bitten off more than I could chew, gotten overconfident in my abilities, and when I tripped once on my path, I just kept tumbling. Suddenly, I couldn't concentrate on my other classes. I was over focusing on one class, and this was bringing my others down. When I noticed, I started freaking out. By the time half the semester had passed, I had stressed myself to the point to where I was struggling to get a 'B' in my easiest class. For someone so used to success, this amount of failure was rattling. Combined with the expectations of others that I knew I was letting down, I took the easiest path available. I quite.

Naturally, it wasn't easy, but it also wasn't hard. With my spirit so dampened, the process of giving up was so appealing.

This may seem contradictory to the bit about expectations I hyped up so much before, but at this point, so many people had given up on me. Sure, by reflex, they looked at me but then the realization that I wasn't 'smart' anymore would flash through their eyes, and they'd just look away. None of my piers believed in me, I didn't have but one friend, and I hadn't spoken to him in nearly a year. It felt wrong to go to him at that point. My Guardians had always been distant, and never really noticed me except when I gave them a report card, or when we had to attend social events. No one was around to care about me anymore, and suddenly I felt so alone.

So, I gave up. I stopped paying attention, I slept through geometry, never did my homework, started reading as many fictional stories I could, ate more, and did everything I could to not have to think of how disappointing I was. To myself the most.

This is what would define me for most of the rest of my life. Right until the very end.

* * *

At the age of 24, Matt corwick was not a healthy individual. He ate whatever came his way, solidified grease or not, had no sleep schedule, often went into work at random times for extended shifts, never worked out, and hardly left his room during his down time. As a front desk agent for a 4 star hotel using loopholes to drag in more clients through 'deals', he also was under a large amount of stress dealing with people of wealth, large amounts of work, being understaffed around the clock, and an incompetent manager. In his opinion, it was miracle that they were able to be so popular for how shitty their work conditions were.

' _But then, image is everything, and damn if we aren't some damn good actors.'_ He thought, gripping his chest from a brief stab of pain. The pains he'd been experiencing from his chest area didn't really concern him. Not after having had them for the past 3 years on and off again.

As Matt put his keys in his the ignition and headed off for his graveyard shift, he thought about his life. Something he'd been doing more and more often. ' _I honest to god hate this. I hate going to work for that piece of shit company, I hate my boss, I hate most of my coworkers, and I really fucking hate the people I have to smile at while they're yelling in my face.'_

Pulling in to the parking space 9 minutes of walking away from his job, he tried to put his thoughts to the back of his mind. The feeling of bubbling frustration and anger in his chest however, would just have to be buried under a fuck-ton of experience in guest-services. With an easy smile, he greeted and wished well the people leaving for the night, eagerly anticipating the point when no-one would be there so he could be as grouchy as he wanted.

"Yo, Jake!" He said with a slightly larger smile.

"Hey." was replied with a nod.

' _Dick.'_ Was what Matt thought in his head. Jake was essentially that one guy that _everybody_ hates. He was lazy, left his station often, had a near constant monotone, rude, and was just all around awful at his job. ' _Yet, somehow, he is loved by our manager.'_ he thought with no small amount of disgust.

As was typical, Jake rattled off everything he was obliged to tell his relief as quickly as possible, before asking the customary "are you good?" with his foot half-way around the corner leading to the exit.

Shooing him off, Matt settled in to figure out what he could about anything he'd need to know from Jake's shift, and actually doing all the work Jake had ignored during his shift. His frown set free by being alone and the risk of a guest coming by being exceedingly low, Matt's earlier thoughts came back. He thought over all the events in his life, all the failures, the disappointments, and how he responded to each one. For every scene that flew through his mind, for every moment he saw where he himself threw away all of his own potential, where he had given up, the feelings in his chest got stronger and stronger. Until finally, Matt had a revelation that was both small, and soul shockingly big.

' _I'm honestly disgusted with myself. My life and everything in as of this moment are making me sick to my stomach. I'm 29, and I've done nothing with myself.'_ Along side his revulsion, there was something else. Something Matt hadn't felt in a long time. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but he knew one thing. _'"I want to change."_ He whispered to himself. "I don't want to be this person anymore. I don't want to hate my life. I want to be strong, to be needed. I want... to _live_."

Matt sat there, in his uncomfortable chair, at his dead-end job, just absorbing this feeling. The one that gave him such a strong desire to be _more._ When the High had come down, Matt sat forward. ' _I'm going to change. Starting tonight, starting right here, right now, I'm going to start moving forward, and nothing's going to stop me.'_ His conviction rung through-out his body in a ray of brightness, and Matt imagined he could feel it soaking into every single one of his cells.

For the next few hours, Matt tirelessly went through an intensive search. He scoured the internet, trying to find something that could put the feeling in his body to action. Make it real. Finally, he came to a conclusion that should have been obvious to him. A way to use his new view on life for not just the betterment of himself, but for the safety of others.

 **You will learn to walk with honor.**

 **You will gain the wisdom**

 **to command with decisive resolve.**

 **You will take your place**

 **among the most elite warriors on earth.**

 **If you have what it takes.**

 **Marines**

 **The few. The proud.**

It was just another one of many adds, and the words weren't exactly the most inspiring, but the face of the man on the add. The idea behind a military life. _That_ was what made up Matt's mind. _'I'm going to be a marine.'_ Was the decisive thought that would set Matt's new path in life.

 **4 1/2 Years later...**

It wasn't easy. Matt's decision that night lead to him turning his life around. He couldn't have joined right away, no matter how resolved he was. He'd have been laughed all the way home. It was a start though. Matt went to the hospital to get an estimate for how far he was from being healthy. The answer shamed him, but did nothing to dull his spirit. He followed the doctors treatment plans to stop the pains in his chest from what was apparently(obviously) clogged arteries.

He threw out his old diet, started a new one, and did his best to stick to it. He did yoga and took up a self-defense class alongside his new part-time job as an assistant carpenter. Matt's knowledge may have been lacking, but he learned quick and worked hard. Then once he had reached a sufficient physique, he took back up his studies. Relearned the things he'd forgotten, and then learned more. It was the most exhilarating feeling. Sure, it wasn't fun at the time, but at the end, when he looked back, the elation of having _accomplished..._ brought tears to his eyes.

He had attended college and majored in ROTC during the last four years, and thus felt that with his age limit coming closer, he was finally ready to sign on.

Matt was so proud of all that he'd accomplished, and now it was time to take the final step to turning his life around. 16 weeks of the most brutal experiences of his entire life. Of endless tests, training, pain, and tears, and he was finally graduating.

'e-1 private. _I'm just a grunt really, but I did it. I really, really did it.'_ With barely withheld tears, Matt stood proud as the ceremony commenced. He would do his country, his company, and himself proud.

 **That, was his solemn vow.**

 **4 years later...**

"... and we stand here today, to honor those who have fallen in the line of duty. Preserving our freedoms, our happiness, and our lives. May their souls find peace on the other side, as their spirit lives on inside of us."

The gathered ground bowed their heads as the General finished his speech with a final moment of silence. The faces of all holding grief for the terrible tragedy that had befallen America as a whole. Through the latest act of terrorism, war was declared when ISIS launched a barrage of missiles at several key military outposts, hitting 2 and damaging others through backlash a month previous.

4 traitors had been exposed in the military chain of command, with all of them being captured. One such traitor was captured by Corporal Matt Corwick. Being injured in the process, Matt was able to subdue Lt. Colonel Brett Gratim. Through acts of bravery, integrity, and insightfulness, the corporal was able to subdue Mr. Gratim while he was attempting escape. Corporal Corwick thus is due to receive a commendation medal for his efforts during these tragic times.

 **3 years later...**

"In a final, historic battle, ISIS's last line of defense fell on March 18th, 2021. Many brave and courageous soldiers gave soldiers gave their lives-"

"Dude, shut the hell up. I'm trying to reach my god damn zen over here, and you narrating our entrance into the history books with your shitty word choice is fucking up my concentration." Came a shout from the 'narrator's' right.

"Awe, poor baby sniffleswick doesn't like my voice, and can't find his 'zen'? Poor little guy." The 'narrator' replied.

"Dick size has nothing to do with this conversation, so I'd appreciate it if you left mine out of it. It's Corwick, you fucking ingrate." Matt replied.

The 'narrator' let out a bark of laughter. "Damn, you don't hold back on anybody do you?"

Matt narrowed his eyes, and turned up his nose in mock disdain. "I don't need a big one to use my mouth. You've all seen it-some more than others- and since I'm the catcher for my team, I just have to keep the rest looking like a flipping statue. Ain't that right Jess?" He finished with a smirk.

Jess laughed again. "Yea, I gotta admit, didn't matter for shit when you were doing that thing with your-"

He was cut off by a flash. There was a boom approximately 70 meters to their right, followed by more streaks of light.

The final battle had begun.

Instantly they were up on their feet, smiles gone, as their CO shouted out orders.

"C'mon, let's-" Jess was cutt off again, this time by a rock sized object that slammed into his head. Before Matt's eyes could widen, there was a blast, and suddenly, he was airborne. Then, everything went black.

* * *

When Matt came to, it was to nothing but ringing in his ears and pounding in his skull. He couldn't open his eyes.

Then, he felt _pain_. Horrendous pain was radiating all over his body, he couldn't pinpoint a single area that hurt the most, though he wasn't exactly coherent enough to do much of anything and it wouldn't have done anything to help. As he lay there for what felt like hours, he recalled what had happened, and suddenly felt ill. Jess was dead.

That dumb bastard with the slightly larger than average dick was fucking _dead._ There probably wasn't enough of his body left for hime to even be identified without his dog tags. ' _Did they even survive the blast?'_ He worried.

With a jolt that made the pain worsen, Matt realized, ' _Am I even going to survive? I was approximately 12 meters from Matt when the Frag went off. I'm obviously a mess, and I can't open my eyes. Am I blind? I've gotta be horribly disfigured at least. Add in the fact that I'm laying in the middle of a desert battleground leaking precious blood, and my survival chances are pretty low...' _Trying to swallow, Matt realized, felt like pushing razors down his throat. ' _Shit, I'm pretty messed up... Man, I really don't want to die just when the war was about to end. Jess... Jess shouldn't have died. Those bastards are just so goddamn fucking awful. This whole damn war has been awful.'_

There wasn't a _point_ to it. To all this fighting. Those damn ISIS bastards were rallying behind an interpretation of their religion that said to kill all who wasn't the same as them. "Kill the infidels" and all that rubbish. ' _What good would that do? If you wiped out everyone who was different than you, the world would be one huge monotonic place. You need diversity to advance, and-and... I'm delirious. Blood loss, pain, and the heat is causing delirium. I'd probably be laughing at this point if I could feel my face.'_

The pounding behind his skull was slowing down. That worried Matt. ' _Is that my heart? Is it... am I dying?'_ With an unexpected wave of grief, Matt thought, _"I-I don't want to die. Not yet, not now. I never fell in love. I never told Jess that he was the biggest and best piece of shit friend I've ever had. I didn't... there was so much I wanted to do. So much I could have done. If only... I had another chance... I'd do it all with my **Dying will**...'_

* * *

 **As the body of Matt Corwick lost it's soul, a newly formed body reached out for one.  
**

 **This is the start of a new adventure.**

 **A new life, brought about through rebirth.  
**

 **A story of burning memories.**


End file.
